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289
Astounding Stories of Super-Science, August 1930
·
Various
36
"Yes,
even
our
ray-guns
won't
shoot
that
distance,"
answered
Nat.
"Tell
Benson
to
keep
his
guns
trained
as
well
as
he
can,
and
open
fire
at
five
hundred."
Brent
disappeared.
Madge
and
Nat
were
alone
on
the
bridge.
Nat
was
shouting
incomprehensible
orders
down
the
tube.
He
stopped
and
looked
up.
The
shadow
of
the
approaching
ship
had
crossed
the
Moon's
disk
and
disappeared.
"Well,
young
lady,
I
think
your
goose
is
cooked,"
said
Nat.
"If
I'm
not
mistaken,
that
ship
is
Axelson's,
and
he's
on
his
way
to
knock
us
galley-west.
And
now
oblige
me
by
leaving
the
bridge."
"I
think
he's
a
perfectly
delightful
character,
to
judge
from
that
message
he
sent
you,"
answered
Madge,
"and--"
Brent
appeared
again.
"Triangulation
shows
ten
thousand
miles,
Sir,"
he
informed
Nat.
"Take
control,"
said
Nat.
"Keep
on
the
gyroscopic
course,
allowing
for
aberrancy,
and
make
for
the
Crater
of
Pytho.
I'll
take
command
of
the
guns."
He
hurried
down
the
companion,
with
Madge
at
his
heels.
The
gunners
stood
by
the
ray-guns,
three
at
each.
Benson
perched
on
a
revolving
stool
above
the
batteries.
He
was
watching
a
periscopic
instrument
that
connected
with
the
bridge
dome
by
means
of
a
tube,
a
flat
mirror
in
front
of
him
showing
all
points
of
the
compass.
At
one
edge
the
shadow
of
the
black
ship
was
creeping
slowly
forward.
"Eight
thousand
miles,
Sir,"
he
told
Nat.
"One
thousand
is
our
extreme
range.
And
it
looks
as
if
she's
making
for
our
blind
spot
overhead."
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